


Good Night, My Lady

by Anonymous



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon Era, Fairy Tale Elements, Gen, Gwen-centric (Merlin), POV Gwen (Merlin), Prompt Fic, Queen Gwen (Merlin), Sewing, Sleeping Beauty Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28194423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Among her wedding presents, Gwen finds a knitting wheel from a Lord she has never heard of before.
Relationships: Gwen & Morgana (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Anonymous, merlinoutofcontext merlinmas holiday fest





	Good Night, My Lady

Gwen likes sewing.

Having an untouched, uncrafted fabric in her hands, to craft something from it, is peaceful. The regular movements under the faint candlelight are soothing in a way, her mind transcends, free as her body is busy with regular, memorized movements. Her mind wanders, not on particularly anything, but she enjoys the feeling of separation, being in her own mind.

True, it was also a necessity for her to learn. She didn’t have special tailors ready to craft beautiful dresses like once Morgana had. Though she _had_ dresses that weren’t sown by her. The last dress her father bought for her rushes to her mind and tears start to form from the memory.

Gwen tries to focus on happier memories. Like the time she became Morgana’s maid. She had been young then. Perhaps younger than a servant should have been but well… Once she met Morgana in Leon’s household, once she helped her sneak and spar with her, Morgana had been all in. Uther must have been horrified by young Morgana’s tantrums that she wanted Gwen to be her friend, to see her more. The problem was solved when Uther Pendragon surrendered and made Gwen her servant.

Morgana had dresses. _Many_ dresses. Beautiful, once-worn dresses. Gwen remembers staring at her cupboard for the first time, never seen so many dresses even in Leon’s mother’s cupboard. Morgana had treated her like her own doll to play with for a few months, giving her dresses and trying to make her hair when it should have been otherwise. Gwen had turned down her gifts with an “I can’t take this Morgana.” at first. Then time passed and Morgana found a way to cheat, to sneak in something that she couldn’t say no to. (She now guesses her smile might have been something to do with it rather than the speciality of the gift.)

The thought about Morgana sends a bitter yearning, Gwen brushes the thoughts about her aside.

The point is Gwen very much likes sewing. And never once in a million years, she would have thought this would be a problem.

Until now.

“Arthur,” she says softly, looking at her husband -the word still sends butterflies in her stomach, and it was rightly so, as it had only been a few hours since the ceremony-. Her mind is fuzzy from the drinks and laugthers seem to still echo in her mind.

“What is the meaning of this?” Arthur says, angrily gesturing the knitting wheel standing right in the middle of their room. Not that there aren’t any gifts in the room, in fact, Gwen thinks the room would be floating with gifts if Merlin hadn’t insisted to have a look at every gift that wasn’t from Merlin himself and their closest friends. She doesn’t know the reason behind his insistence, but it isn’t hard to guess. Gwen quite likes the way it is now, only the gifts of the closest to them in their room. The scabbard Elyan made for Arthur’s new sword right catches her eye.

She doesn’t know where and how he learnt to make something so beautiful.

“Who is this… Lord Agnamay?” Arthur reads the golden embodied name on the front of the wheel with a frown. “Why did Merlin put this here?”

“Perhaps he already started looking through the gifts?” Gwen murmurs. The name Lord Agnamay is a name she too is hearing for the first time. In the middle of those few closest gifts, she can’t help but agree that the wheel looks out of place.

Yet it doesn’t feel that way to her.

“ _Mer_ lin?”

“He is very efficient. And hard-working. And… I think it is a very thoughtful gift.”

She knows what Arthur thinks, the Lord is shaming her for being a servant, yet the wooden wheel looks very expensive and well made. From the quality of the shining wood, gold embodied name on it and purplish hand-drawn made flower reliefs scream expensive. It is far more beautiful than anything she ever had in her modest cottage. Yet there is a familiarity with it, the embodiments which resemble her favourite flower are her favourite colour. It feels too personal to be from a Lord she had never heard of.

Perhaps the Lord had done research on her to gain Arthur’s favour over her. Yet it makes an uneasiness in her stomach, that a stranger knows this much about her. Perhaps it is all a coincidence she is making too much in her drunken mind.

“I always wanted to use a wheel. I worked with a spindle before, but never a wheel. And this beautiful.”

She likes the idea of having something she likes to company her thrust into this new world of Queenship. The court meeting tomorrow immediately comes to her mind, looming over her. It will be her first court meeting as the Queen. The Queen, she thinks.

Suddenly, she feels Arthur’s thumb caressing her cheek.

“You’ll be amazing tomorrow,” he says looking at her eyes with a smile, understanding what is bothering her.

Gwen gulps. What is waiting for her tomorrow seems to sober her up.

She’ll have to prove herself tomorrow. She’ll have to earn the respects of the people that would be looking for one wrong move to slip her.

It won’t be easy.

Arthur yawns all the dancing and drinking and eating catching up with him.

“ ‘m too tired.” His legs entangle with each other and he goes slightly of course. Gwen can’t help her giggle as Arthur falls on the bed like a log.

“You at least have the privilege to… the chance to sleep with your clothes.” The dress she is wearing is way more moveable than the one she wore for the crowning ceremony but yet, it still feels like she is carrying the whole world with her upper body.

Gods, how is she supposed to take it out without the maids?

“The… the help girls… Maids!” Arthur exclaims.

“They are gone,” Gwen whines. “Why did I tell them to go?”

She had very much thought she could do it herself as she wasn’t used to the luxury of having a maid help her. She thought she could make it considering how much practice she had with dresses, but was proven very wrong.

“C’me here,” Arthur slurs, waving his one hand eyes still closed. “I’ll help you.”

“You can’t even help yourself.”

“I very can.” He tries to sit up and falls right back on. Gwen laughs as he tries to stand up for the second time.

“I’ll do…” He frowns as if the words he was about to say just slipped off his mind. “I’ll do _anything_ for you, Guinevere Pendragon.”

 _Guinevere Pendragon_ , Gwen echoes to herself silently. It feels nice, something fits perfectly about it. 

“Guinevere Pendragon,” Arthur murmurs dreamily with the sweetest smile on his face. As his eyes close, Gwen thinks she can handle whatever will come with the Queenship as long as Arthur is by her side.

And _possibly_ the dress.

* * *

The council meeting, in fact, went well. At least that’s what she likes to think.

Her hands are still shaking as she walks down the corridors to their new room. Gwen couldn’t have thought such a familiar place like the meeting room could look so _big_. The distance between the giant doors closing after her and the table seemed to be a thorny road stretching to the horizon.

Gwen owed Merlin big time. If Merlin hadn’t locked his eyes with her, raising his chin as she should and standing straight behind Arthur, Gwen doesn’t think she would have made it. Or would have made a very unqueenly entrance with falling straight on her face. The familiarity of his soft smile, his eyes had soothed her.

...as the Queen, she can technically give him a day off, can’t she? The thought strikes her, she can do anything. She has the power to make a change on how the castle staff lives, how much they earn. She has the power that is more than words now.

The realization of the responsibility falls heavy on her, breathing seems to be harder.

Gwen throws herself to their chamber which is empty. Her eyes catch the wheel.

There is an uneasiness and a weird gravitation towards it. She walks towards the wheel, staring at it for a few beats.

Gwen trims her hand over it. It feels safer, more familiar, almost grounding her. This is her roots, this _is_ her. The wheel looks fancy, but it still is a wheel the same as the ones at a villager’s home. No matter what she wears, what she carries, she’ll be the same person with the same goals and mind.

The needle pricks her finger.

A drop of blood rushes from it and Gwen tries to press onto it to stop the bleeding. She misses her hand.

A weariness is hanging on her. Her eyes start to close though she doesn’t want it. Her body wants to sleep. Everything is becoming fuzzier.

Something is very, _very_ wrong.

The golden embodiments begin to shine. Letters swap places with each other. The “y” at the end hops it’s way to the first word.

Gwen opens her mouth to shout as her legs give in. She falls on the floor. Only a pitiful sound comes out.

She barely has a second to stare at the words Lord Agnamay turning into Lady Morgana before everything goes dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Was written for the prompt challenge MerlinMas. It was supposed to be under 1k and I left here seeing it already is more than 1.5k words.


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